Hitchcock (Sacha Gervasi, 2012) - 2½ stars

2012 has seen two screen depictions of the so-called Master of Suspense. First Toby Jones took the role in the BBC’s The Girl and now Anthony Hopkins tries his hand in Sacha Gervasi’s simply titled Hitchcock, allowing us a sneaky peephole look at the build up to, production of and the reception to, Alfred Hitchcock’s game changing horror film Psycho.

The film does not waste any time with suggesting its motifs. In a film about such a wonderful crafter of story and cinema, you could be forgiven for expecting subtlety to be at the forefront of Gervasi’s mind. Sadly not- the first act is as subtle as a breadknife in pointing out all the obvious characteristics we should be looking out for with Hitchcock and his ‘new’ film. Yes he had an obsession with blonde leading ladies. Yes he drank a lot. Yes Psycho was influenced partly by the real killer Ed Gein. It should not have taken awful sexualised puns with Janet Leigh, and an almost farcical first scene in which Hitchcock speaks to us directly while standing next to the Wisconsin killer on which Norman Bates was slightly based. And they unfortunately lower both the tone of the film and the audience’s expectations rather quickly. From there on, the film becomes a well-cast but ultimately messily handled drama about this period of Hitchcock’s life.

But even within the tight confines of looking at Hitchcock at one point in his career, at one movie he made, there is still too much going on for a film that runs only just over the ninety minute mark. Should we focus on his domestic relationship with wife Alma Reville, as she sneaks off to spend time with a younger writer, Danny Huston’s Whitfield Cook? I hope not: these scenes are more painful than being stabbed to death in the shower, playing out like a poor American soap opera. Instead, maybe we should turn our attention to Hitchcock’s inner struggle with the film at hand, while he navigates actors, self-finance and visits from serial killers in his dreams. But while the latter is slightly more interesting for the audience and better crafted by the director, the former seems to take first place in terms of screen time. By the conclusion of the film, the two trains of thought come together, and Alfred and Alma’s marital subplot has enough weight to carry what turns out to be an enjoyable and rewarding ending, but until then we simply seem to be biding our time. And not in the classic Hitchockian sense of the phrase.

As Hopkins keeps his head as Hitchcock (although slightly lacking the creepiness that Jones played so well) it is his supporting cast that catches the audience’s eye. Scarlett Johansson is excellent as Janet Leigh while Helen Mirren plays the torn and tormented Alma brilliantly. James D’Arcy’s Anthony Perkins and Jessica Biel as the almost ignored Vera Miles are also worth a mention.

Hitchcock is an interesting, easy to watch, insight into one of Hollywood’s greats, both in terms of the film it depicts and its maker. However, my advice to anyone with only time to watch one of the two: choose Psycho any day and imagine for yourself the behind the scenes drama if you so desire.